


No Intent On Leaving Soon

by dance_dance_miserable



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Gen, M/M, Patrick's sick of his shit, Pete's an annoying bastard, Peterick if you squint - Freeform, Pre-Hiatus (Fall Out Boy), can be read as platonic or romantic, demon!pete
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:28:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21653752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dance_dance_miserable/pseuds/dance_dance_miserable
Summary: “I just wanted to say hi to my favorite mortal. Is that not allowed?”Patrick shook his head firmly and Pete twirled away from him, his arrowhead tail swishing playfully. The demon shot Patrick a grin over his shoulder, his fangs glinting under the bus’s florescent lights.“You’re cute when you’re mad at me,” he purred, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet with his arms clasped behind him.Patrick let out a breath. “I’m not mad at you.” He tossed his journal onto the side table, but kept his pen to drum on the arm of the sofa. “And I’m not cute.”
Relationships: Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22
Collections: Stumpsthetic Challenge Prizes





	No Intent On Leaving Soon

**Author's Note:**

> written for @death-is-the-last-appointment on tumblr for coming second in my first ever moodboard challenge. their winning edit is included below.
> 
> title taken from natewantstobattle's 'phantom'.

“Patrick. Ricky. ‘Trick.”

Patrick sighed heavily, squeezing his eyes shut for a count of five before burying his face even further into his journal. He pressed his pen into the page in front of him, scribbling violently and hoping that the scratching sound would drown out Pete’s whining.

“Lunchbox. Rick Ta Life. Pattycakes.” Pete brought a long, clawed finger down onto the page where Patrick was writing, tapping it softly like an impatient foot. He then dragged it upwards, leaving an indent behind and smudging the still-wet ink from Patrick’s previous sentence.

Patrick glared up at him through his glasses, scowling. “What do you want, Pete?” he grumbled. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“Busy? Busy writing in your cute little diary?” Pete gave him a somehow angelic smile, despite being a demon, and removed his finger from Patrick’s journal just before Patrick slammed it shut.

“It’s not a diary, it’s‒”

“Hush.” Pete pressed a finger firmly over Patrick’s mouth, cutting him off. He used his claw to poke the end of Patrick’s nose without moving his finger. Patrick scrunched up his face in reply. “I just wanted to say hi to my favorite mortal. Is that not allowed?”

Patrick shook his head firmly and Pete twirled away from him, his arrowhead tail swishing playfully. The demon shot Patrick a grin over his shoulder, his fangs glinting under the bus’s florescent lights.

“You’re cute when you’re mad at me,” he purred, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet with his arms clasped behind him. 

Patrick let out a breath. “I’m not mad at you.” He tossed his journal onto the side table, but kept his pen to drum on the arm of the sofa. “And I’m not cute.”

Pete barked out a laugh, spinning on his heel to look at Patrick in disbelief. “Bullshit!” he cried. “You are _so_ cute! Like if somebody combined a puppy and a bunny into one creature, dyed it pastel pink, and dipped it into a vat of marshmallow fluff.”

Patrick eyed him hesitantly. Pete was advancing on him with a glint in his eye, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. “That… that sounds like animal cruelty,” he replied, letting out a grunt as Pete sat down hard and unexpected in his lap, the demon’s tail digging uncomfortably into his sensitive areas.

“It’s just a hypothetical, Ricky. Don’t take everything so seriously,” Pete huffed, sticking his lip out in a pout. He reached up to twirl a loose lock of Patrick’s hair around his finger and whined when Patrick slapped his hand away. 

“You’re a demon,” he reasoned, tapping Pete on the forehead with his pen. “You’ve got… demon powers, or whatever. You could probably make that hypothetical a reality.”

“Yeah, but why would I? Wouldnt be nearly as fun as using them to mess with you, my sweet little dumpling.” Pete pulled the brim of Patrick’s hat down over his eyes; this was only a distraction though, and Pete took the opportunity to wrap a bit of Patrick’s hair around his finger as he’d tried to do earlier.

Patrick sputtered and shoved blindly at Pete, who just laughed and tangled the fingers of his free hand into Patrick’s hair as well. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Patrick demanded, throwing his head back in a desperate attempt to regain his sight; this worked, only at the sacrifice of his hat, which went flying off behind the sofa.

“You’ll see,” the demon promised with a smile, planting a sloppy kiss on Patrick’s forehead. Revenge for the pen smack.

The two sat there at an impasse of sorts for a solid twenty minutes. Patrick stared at Pete, blushing like mad while Pete beamed at him like he’d been sent straight from Heaven itself; as Patrick had learned years ago, the exact opposite was true.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” Pete cooed, leaning in to rub noses with Patrick.

“Is there any time that I’m not cute?”

“Not to me, there isn’t, ‘Trickydoll.” The demon slowly and gracefully worked his fingers out of Patrick’s hair, cracking his knuckles once he was free. “Now especially.” 

“Why now?”

Pete hummed, unable to suppress his grin. “...you’ll see,” he replied. He couldn’t bring himself to look Patrick in the eyes; instead, he bolted to his feet and bounced away.

Patrick didn’t find out what Pete had done until later, when he discovered his reflection in the bathroom mirror had been blessed with beautiful ringlet curls.


End file.
